


Love's Endeavour. Love's expenses

by DalekLetoEndeavour



Category: Inspector Morse & Related Fandoms, Lewis (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Parents, Background Case, Botanical Inaccuracies, Dad James Hathaway is just the best, Getting Together, Inspired By Tumblr, Lewis and Hathaway would be the best dads y'all, M/M, Mad Scientists
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:48:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23060461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DalekLetoEndeavour/pseuds/DalekLetoEndeavour
Summary: Upon finding blue roses with an unnatural amount of petals on his former DIs grave, Robbie Lewis picked up the investigation,along side his dishy sergeant Hathaway with some booksmart and witty Tumblr knowledge, which resulted in some unforseable happiness.
Relationships: James Hathaway & Robert Lewis, James Hathaway/Robert Lewis
Comments: 6
Kudos: 64





	1. Now you'll live through the ages,  I can feel your pulse in the pages.

**Author's Note:**

> Notes  
> Authors note :  
> Well this is a sorta fix it story for current real life things going wrong  
> Some Lewis-Hathaway being guardians of a lost boy
> 
> Just borrowed the characters for a jolly good time and will return them  
> ....... maybe.....  
> It’s a 3 POV story but it will melt into one narrative eventually
> 
> Title was sneakily borrowed from a book recommendation from the acknowledgement page from James Runcies "Road to Grantchester" (Robert Kendall is haunting this fic alongside Max Debryn )

One 

The first time he had encountered this name it was a rainy Thursday afternoon. A month after his father's funeral to be precise. It was strange stealing the name of a deceased, he though for a moment, but then again he told himself it was common to pass on the name of dead to the next generation.  
It had been an extraordinary name for sure.

The boy with the raven hair brought an extra bouquet of flowers the next time he visited the graveyard.  
As usual he had a long conversation with his father who as usual kept silent.  
This time he spent also a moment of the unknown dead who’s name he had choose to wear from now on.  
"Hi. You don't know me and I don't know you. But I like your name and I hope you don’t mind me taking it" 

Uno 

The wind had been very brisk today. Undoubtedly warning of an upcoming storm. Nevertheless had Robbie Lewis decided to visit his dear Val’s place of eternal rest.  
After renewing the flowers and shared the latest news about the kids, along with how he and James shared now custody over a cat called Monty, he had resorted to pay a visit to his former DIs grave.  
Rather star struck he had been to find tiny blue roses on said.  
He knelt down to take a closer look at them. Unusual, came to his mind first. Those weren't simple roses one could just get at the nearest gas station.  
"Sir." He spoke softly in an apologising matter, when he picked one of those up, before leaving.

The soft drops which started the moment he had left the row where his past had been buried, had turned into heavy pregnant drops which impacted with the speed of a Kalashnikov, the moment he had gotten inside his car, driven back to the present and unknowingly the future.  
It was a downpour beyond comparison.  
Oxford seemed to vanish into smoke and water.  
: Two 

He had escaped the rain for now. Rain always set the world free of its remorse. How delightful the world smelled, heavy with the echoes of rain.  
For once he was save and sound again.  
Nobody ever came in here.  
The stained glass greeted him as usual with the dim lights when he climbed up the stairs to his little nest, like a little bird.  
Tomorrow the sun will rise again , he promised the picture he held dear while closing his eyes, ready to be swept away by Morpheus.

: Én

James Hathaway had saved himself into the small chapel from the unmerciful, unforgiving storm which was raging outside.  
It had been the first time he actually did found the courage to step inside this abandoned place of worshiping since, he had left the seminary. Something had always repelled him from entering said little chapel in the heart of Oxfordshire. Locals had called it haunted. Of course that hadn't bothered James, since he wasn't a superstitious man, yet he had felt an undeniable presence when he had entered.  
: Three 

There was the creaking noise of the weary old oak door being opened a long with squeaky approaching footsteps which made him anxious. Hardly ever anyone dared to set a foot in here. Without making a noise he slid off the bed ,which he had build up from hay and books, to crawl on the floor over to the balustrade for a peek down. The intruder looked like one of those stained glass angels with a touch of drenched mouse.  
Softly he chuckled about that mental image.  
Was he an angel though, that intruder? The raven hair boy wondered without taking his eyes of the stranger who had knelt down in front of the statue of Santa Barbara, lost in a prayer.  
: Due 

Robbie Lewis always loved a little mystery. He loved to solve them even more. Something about these roses had just tickled his copper instinct.  
Twisting the blue rose , which had been robbed from all of their thorns, in between his thumb and index finger, he decided to take up that case.  
_Prussian blue_ recommend his mind ,like Hathaway would have done, when he had sat down behind his laptop browsing that dreadful thing called google for the origins of the royal looking flower.  
About a thousand images and instructions crashed upon him.  
Nothing which had looked like the flower in his hands.  
With a grunt he finished his tea, new strategy and picked up his mobile phone.  
Back up was needed !  
To 

Lightning illuminated the chapel in on a steady basis now. Filling the air with electricity. Making the flames flicker and the shadows of the glass saints dance. Everything was in perfect symphony.  
Silent prayers were escaping the Sergeants lips. Saint Barbara listened.  
After a while James had looked up avoiding her soft understanding green eyes, guild ridden, when his thoughts had led him astray from his prayers.  
_Robbie, it always was Robbie bloody Lewis whom his devotion truly belonged. With his soft grey green eyes and those brought shoulders who could carry the weight of the world. He could turn every saint into a sinner_ Four 

In the distance was the thunder roaring like a starved tiger, when the sharp bell of a phone cut through the silence.  
Do angels have phones?  
Most likely they adapt to the modern times, the boy told himself..

"Hathaway." and "No problem at all Sir. I'll be on my way" were the first and only words which the stranger spoke. What a melodically voice he'd posed.  
The boy watched him getting ready to leave. For a moment he considered following him. For a moment their glances meet unintentionally. Hathaway didn't actually recognise that there was someone watching him, still he felt watched.  
Tre 

Somehow Lewis made himself worry about the fact that he had asked his bagman to come over in this storm for something not actually work related. But then there was this slight feeling of relieve when James had agreed to come over. _Never been a friend of stormy weather_ he though when a heavy jolt of thunder made the windows vibrate in response.  
Tre 

James quickly made the sign of the cross, kissing his rosemary before getting up. Smiling he thanked the Saint silently for this sign. He was glad Lewis...Robbie had called otherwise he would have considered staying here for the night. His Guvs flat was closer than his own which was far off at the other side of town.  
He reckoned, that he would be soaked to the bone the moment he stepped out again.  
_Worth it though_ smiled he in such a way he would have been called out for being smug.  
Five

He did not follow the strange angelic like person called Hathaway outside for it was to grim to do so. Yet he hoped for another encounter, he seemed alright.  
Assured by the noise of the old oak door being opened, a soft outcry towards the bad weather and the door slamming shut by the wind, he walked back to his bed.  
On the way he fetched his sketch book filling it with an faceless angel.  
Daring to hope to be found.  
Quattro 

He anticipated waiting.  
Felt like a child waiting for the presents at Christmas.  
_Sodding hell he shouldn't feel like this not about his Sergeant_  
Yet he made his heart made an enjoyable jump when he heard the doorbell 20 min later  
Fire 

As he predicted he had been soaked to his bones when he had arrived but he wasn't expecting Lewis opening the door with a large towel in his hand. Smilingly throwing it at him "Here yah go looking all like a mucky pup." "Thank you sir." James grinned snatching the towel from his DIs hand. A moment like this had crossed, more haunted, his mind ever so often, coming home from rain and being greeted by kisses.  
"On the sofa are dry clothes."

: Six 

After countless attempts on drawing he gave up resorting to staring at the stained glass saint's. There was archangel Michael with the flame of fire and Lucifer the light bringer with wings as dark as the night with a rainbow serpent at his side.  
A lightning struck, followed by a loud growl of thunder. The storm was now right above them. Holding on to his Loki pendant he prayed that his greenhouse would be spared from the destruction.  
The walls ached from the strong guests of wind they had to endure. The windows rattled anticipating with ever echo of the thunder.  
_I wouldn't mind if the world would end tonight_ he reckoned snuggling and turning up the volume on his mp3 player.

Cinque & Fem 

Hathaway nod before resorting to change into something less drenched , while Lewis put the kettle. _Nothing beats a nice cuppa_ James returned in no time smugly smiling as he always did before a cheeky comment.  
"So what's that all about sir." Hathaway frowned in his typical manner picking up the rose, before examining it like Hamlet did if he would have been a crime scene manager.  
"Hoped you could tell me more about them."  
"Since when is botanist in my resume? They are artificially coloured as far as I can tell, why don’t you ask the person who got you them in the first place."  
"Can't."  
"Being shy sir?" He countered in his everlasting snarky manner somewhere in between flirty and mocking.  
"As far as I'm concerned I'm not a medium yet."  
“But Sir I had so high hopes in your skills! I recall Dr Hobson praising your séance skills for tea parties with her predecessor and his grumpy significant other.”  
Lewis frowned at him, his sergeant had caused him at least a dozed wrinkles with comments like this but also a lot of laughter lines, before reclaiming the flower.  
The Rose had an uncanny number of petals when it had been in its full prime and glory earlier at the grave.. Now the flower looked rather lifeless in his hands.  
Without further notice Hathaway got up to gather a long drink glass and water for the patient. Putting the rose into the improvised vase he shot a sceptical look at the kitchen shelves. “You don’t happen to have Epson salt?”  
With a grunt Lewis got up, going straight for the bottom drawer, his back would pester him later about it. “What's this then about?” he demanded to know as he watched his sergeant pour an unholy amount of said substance into the water. “Behold the wonders of science!” exclaimed he in his best Victor Frankenstein impression and Lewis wondered if he wasn’t possessed by Dr Debryn just them.  
Within moments the tight cupped petals started to reopen to their original nearly flat double glorious bloom. The remnants of the salt even robbed the petals of their blue colour.  
“Now look at that Sir! I would say you got yourself a special edition of a Camellia japonica.” “English Sergeant!” “I was getting there, Sir. Commonly known as the Rose of the winter but also called the 18 scholars.” “Very common knowledge you gained where?” “Tumblr.” “Tumblr?” “A social media platform for special interest not to be confused with the machine that dries laundry. Even though it’s possible that there's a Tumblr block dedicated to Tumblr dryers you never know. People are strange.” The lad explained without any hint of irony. Lewis gave him one of his concerned looks before resigning to a subtle “And how does that bring us further in this case?”  
“Well sir, the 18 scholars are even for Oxford a rare flower and their seeds can only be purchased by qualified florists.”  
“Then we should have a chat with them!” Lewis slapped his thighs and got up with a youthful enthusiasm he had never shown before.  
“But Sir, the shops are going to be closed by the time we reach them and this isn’t an official investigation.” Hathaway laid his head side ways, with a wicket half smile on his lips, daring.  
“Well then we do that tomorrow and have a curry instead.”


	2. A rose is but a rose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Monty and investigations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a small chapter cause I felt like continuing

Seseta & sen 

The day began for   
Sergeant Hatchway’s with an encouraging meowing fluff ball jumping on his stomach and Lewis putting down a cup of tea next to him on the table. Monty sniffed curious in its direction but then proceeded to greet his human father with a head butt. Purring as if he was telling him how much he missed him. 

Lewis almost awwed at that scene. A scruffy, half asleep, bed head James cuddling with a cat was a thing of joy. Something Keats clearly was all about when he spoke of a thing of beauty.  
James had been tempted to snuggle up more, roll over and listen to Monty’s soothing purrs but there wasn't much time for such leisure not today at least.  
Monty being an impossible force of nature when it comes to attention gave him a hard time to sit up properly. Lewis chuckling took pity on him by taking the lovesick cat away ,while almost tripping over and landing on his bagman lap, who surely wouldn't have minded this close proximity but alas Lewis didn't knew.  
Once put down Monty shot a glance at him before slamming his claws into the sofa until he got told off.

Seven 

He woke up early. Long before the sun dared to rise to checked upon the damages.  
The greenhouse had only minor damages. The broken window was fixed within minutes, the scattered gardening tools were found before the hour was out.  
Sunlight slowly crept in when he retreated back inside after finally taking care of his roses.

.............

Later he when had returned to the graveyard he had spotted the angel again. In broad daylight he looked almost human and well he was with a companion. The boy had watched them from a bench. They were at his silent friends grave. Taking his rose away. The ones he had just replaced not 10 min ago.   
They were talking. Analysing the roses.   
Not long before they would spot roses on his father's grave too. Or maybe not. They were so caught up in their conversation they wouldn't. The boy wondered if they were lovers. The way they conversed with each other indicated something a special bond. Were angels allowed to take human companions? They didn't noticed him moving closer to overheard their conversation. But nobody ever did notice him.  
He was a ghost to anyone.  
People would walk through him if they could.

Ocho 

"Nunc ubi Regulus aut ubi Romulus aut ubi Remus? / Stat Roma pristina nomine, nomina nuda tenemus." Quoted Hathaway after Lewis had picked up a fresh rose from his old guvnours grave.   
"English Sergeant."

"Where now is Regulus, or Romulus, or Remus? / Primordial Rome abides only in its name; we hold only naked names."  
Lewis stared at him puzzled. "And for someone who hasn't been sleeping in a knife box?"   
Hathaway smiled smug before lighting a cigarette.   
"Your gov seems to have an admirer who knows his ancient scholars as much as contemporary authors. This quote belongs to I believe Bernard of Cluny, who amongst other is rumoured to have inspired Umberto Eco’s The name of the Rose."  
"Oh remember seeing that with me wife when it came out. Fell asleep half way through it." "For some a gothic setting works like a sleeping draught. Where there any more quotes?"  
Lewis frowned. Really he should have noticed something like that yesterday. But there hadn't been one. Surely not?  
Hathaway studied the papyrus equal furthermore. Rubbed his fingers across the words. Charcoal ink stained his thumb immediately. "The paper and ink is quite   
possibly than older than our literature affine stranger."  
"And here I'd hope we could walk into H.W.Smiths and they'd give us a list of people."  
"We would be better off with a Ouija board asking your old gov!" 

Eight 

The boy decided to stay in the shadows for a bit longer.  
The he angel had seen right through the notes. Had known the words. Of course.  
Angels always know everything.   
Biting his nails he contemplated following them. Clutching yesterday's quote in his hands.

The wind was brushing up as footsteps told him that they were leaving.  
Now or never.  
Carefully he moved over the grass always ready to drop if they should turn around. But they didn't.  
They were so caught up in their conversation they wouldn't have noticed him even if he was walking on the pebbles.  
Looking back at the graves of his protegés he continued to follow them for as long as he was able.


	3. And all the world will read you And you will live forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lewis and Hathaway visit get some help

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ever since I sticked to cannon timelines where both my babys Max and Endeavour are dead I had to resurrect my RPG OC who in our cannon had died a long time before them.
> 
> So wahoo fun times.
> 
> Extra cookies for everyone spotting the black sails reference and figuring out what Hathaway and the Profesor have in common   
> Other than that enjoy!!

Nuevo 

Lewis stopped at the gate, pointing at the note in his sergeants hands.  
"Do you think it be possible to sneak it off the record to our resident experts of pen and paper?" "I don't think the guys from Steno would like that comparison. They don't strike me as the DnD or Pathfinder type." Cocking an eyebrow he smirked. Fully aware that his partner had no idea what pen and paper meant these days.  
"Really thought that's what they do all day while we play cops and robbers!"  
Strangely Sgt Hathaway felt watched all of a sudden.  
Out of the corner of his eye he felt someone, but when turning around there hadn't been someone.   
"Let's get us some coffee." Chipped Lewis opening the door to their blue Vauxhall.   
The car was fairly new but the station hadn't bothered with a new licence plate. Bloody budget cuts.  
James got in reluctantly, for the first time uncertain about wanting to leave this place, as if him staying was important. Observing the area he thought he met the glance of something hiding behind the gate.   
"James?" His DIs voice brought him back to reality. Swallowing hard he got in. "Sorry Sir..."   
"Don't tell me you've seen a ghost." "Either that or someone had been watching us"  
“Don't be daft, lad and get inside."   
James did as told not really wanting to let go of the graveyard yet.  
As if there was something waiting.   
Something that would dramatically change things.  
Eventually he got inside.

Nine 

The boy made a quick sketch of the car and the licence plate   
Noted the name down of the angel.  
James   
James Hathaway   
He smiled very angelic.   
Their gaze met.   
The boy saw home in those cold blue ice.  
Saw a future in them.  
Saw hope.  
The boy didn't move from the shadows just yet.  
Let the name wander across his lips.  
It sounded right  
Sounded like home  
Waiting till their car had vanished behind the corner he made his way into town.  
The internet was better there and it was high time for some lunch.  
Angels these days were connected over social media.  
Makes them reach out to their protégés more easier.  
Just a few clicks and he thought about cutting some of his lavender for the angel.  
Tomorrow then he told himself 

Diez 

Lewis drove up Broad street trying to find a parking space before letting James just hop out of the car to nip into Sainsbury's to grab some lunch.  
While he drove around the block.   
James was quick but his mind was occupied.  
Almost would have taken a packed of heart shaped German chocolate which had somehow found it's way across the pond.  
He couldn't stop thinking about that encounter he had with that being.  
Wanting to go back there.  
Find the someone.  
James got back into the car trying his best not to bite his nails. Suppressing the urge to light a cigarette in the car. He was on edge for this new mystery.  
They didn't had a case. Nothing but roses and a quote.   
This was raw police work.  
No names.  
No nothing.  
Just flowers.  
An a gut feeling.  
One of those ineffable things.

Yet what send shivers down his spine was the realisation that Lewis had chosen him to be on this.  
That they were together on this case.  
No Laura   
No Innocent   
Just them.

And this was beautiful.  
..........  
They had decided to eat their lunch on the steps of a memorial Lewis drove past every day yet it slipped his mind just now.  
His Sgt had been picky eating his fruit box.   
Clearly the lads mind was running marathons.  
"How about we talk to Professor Almashy first then head to the covert market ?"  
Hathaway nod. Usually he was in a more chipper mood, well whatever chipper meant when it came down to the mystery of James Hathaway’s brain, when his governor mentioned meeting the Professor.  
The two got along pretty well. At one point he had been thrown back to a time where he was but a snotty Sergeant standing in between Morse and DeBryn who bickered about the inaccuracy of a stage murder.  
Professor Almashy had been a student of Max DeBryn no doubt. A very close friend to both Max and Morse.  
Last of the golden age of Oxfords policing, Lewis sometimes thought.  
They found the Professor in his office at Trinity college.   
The desk was cluttered with files. The floor covert in all sorts of books.  
Apparently the scruffy Professor was moving things.  
"Professor Almashy?" Lewis let himself inside without knocking.  
"Robert what a nice surprise! Hadn't expected to see you this soon. Excuse the mess. I have misplaced A Shropshire Lad and I wanted to gift it to Abigail. The old age you know."   
The Professor was hardly 15 years older than him.  
One of those silver foxes getting more attractive with age.  
If Lewis had to guess his age he probably would guess it wrong. "Afraid I can't offer you some tea today in this state. But how can I help you?"   
James sneaked cat like around the office before finding a seat where the needed book presented itself.  
James opened it curious but snapped it close after reading stumbling upon some handwritten notes.

_To my truest love Jack..Know no shame E.M. ___

__He placed it on the Professor's desk feeling almost predatory when his glance wandered now over the framed pictures on his desk. As if they had new meanings now. The tiny blu, pink and lilac flag made Hathaway smile then. Oh well they both had more in common than they thought.  
"We had hoped you can help us with a tiny riddle."  
The Professor signed. "Best to get comfortable then."  
Lewis sat down next to his partner while the Professor pulled up a chair.  
"Have you've been lately at the graveyard to visit an old friend of ours?" "We share quite a few friends who are resident there my dear Robert."  
"Morse." "Oh." The Professor smile faded out of a sudden. There was a lot of sorrow and remorse in his eyes. As if suddenly aged another 70 years.  
Lewis bit his tongue before saying something wrong. It's never easy when you mention the death of someone close. The Professor and the detective were very close. Like him and Hathaway maybe even beyond that....  
"We found those roses and a quote on his grave and had hoped you could enlighten us a bit about them." Hathaway handed him the rose and the quote which they had sealed in a Tesco zipper bad.  
The Professor raised an eyebrow at how the evidence presented itself. "Budget cuts?"  
"Something like that.." chuckled Hathaway.  
The Professor read the quote thoroughly before getting up to fetch a notebook.  
"It started a couple of weeks ago. With quotes from Shakespeare and Byron. He didn't even like Byron. Shirley called me mad for pursuing that case." "And ?" "I did some tests with the roses. How far they are decayed to calculate when they start losing their colour. Nothing really came out of that.  
But well I caught a glimpse at a suspicious looking boy who happened to stroll around the graveyard very often. Also it would be worth checking out if there are more graves blessed with those roses."  
The Professor opened his tattered leather notebook to almost the last pages.  
"High time you get a new one Prof." "Oh I'm too old for a new start now."   
It revealed a sketch of a boy with raven hair, very soft features in a dark hoody with haunting eyes. "He's one of those kids who could just vanish into this air." Hathaway dropped the book, gobsmacked, apologizing. "Sir I think I've seen him earlier."   
Lewis breath out heavily._ _

**Author's Note:**

> I do not have Tumblr just yet but I thx to a Pinterest post of someone's Tumblr post about this incredibly beautiful Rose called the 18 scholars this story was born 
> 
> And come on Hathaway owns a Tumblr blog even if it's just about lavender socks and dark academia aesthetics


End file.
